


Cracks In The Walls Of Heaven

by YumeNoTsuzuki (Yumejin)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jo kicks ass, M/M, Misunderstandings, rebellious angels, season 6 AU, shady deals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yumejin/pseuds/YumeNoTsuzuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam thinks he's the best damn hunter in the universe, now that his soul is gone and he doesn't have to hide behind his emotionally stunted brother anymore. Of course, he's completely wrong and walks them right into an altercation with a runaway angel. This time it really might be a bit more than they can handle on their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cracks In The Walls Of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ivyxxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivyxxx/gifts).



> A big thanks to Ivyxxx for finding me a bunch of awesome sites to read Supernatural fics and prompt pages. You inspired me to write some badass Jo :) Hope you're going to like this~

 

“Sam, I swear to God, I’m going to skin you alive if we get out of this,” Dean grunts, pulling the small silver blade from his shoulder, grinding his teeth together to stop himself from actually crying out in pain, cause – _fuck_ – these angel weapons hurt like a bitch. Sammy makes a non-committal noise in his throat, which only pisses him off more. If Sam has just stopped to listen to him for a second, they’d have avoided this whole mess and been back home in time for a new episode of Dr.Sexy, but no, his brother has no soul and is convinced he’s the universe’s best hunter and is now going up against a bloody _Angel_.

“Take your time, I can wait until you drop dead from exhaustion,” the Angel shouts out from around the corner. They’re trapped underground, the only way out is past the infuriated celestial being and Dean can barely even use his right arm anymore. Yeah, they’re screwed. Beside him, Sam inspects the knife in his hand casually, before jumping out to attack. The Angel, despite his almost feminine, delicate appearance, is of course, faster, stronger and a human could never stop him if they tried. Dean cringes when he hears the sound of breaking bones and a scream of pain from Sammy, and he forces himself to roll out from behind cover. Fuck safety, he had to see what had happened.

His vision is blurry; he must have hit his head pretty hard, because when he moves, everything diffuses into a mess of colour before his eyes. Before his mind even grasps what’s going on, there’s a loud bang, someone is shouting and he’s being unceremoniously hauled up to his feet by someone’s rough hands.

“Well you look like shit,” his rescuer drawls lazily and Dean groans. Fucking Crowley sticking his grabby hands where they don’t belong. He tries to move away, but his legs appear to have switched off.

“I’m about as happy with the situation as you are, so suck it up and let me do you a favour.” The King of Hell is dragging him out of the bunker, then he gets dumped onto the ground as soon as they’re outside. The world spins again and he can now make out the vague shape of Sammy’s collapsed body next to him. There’s a flurry of blond hair and someone pushes away his hand when he tries to move closer to his brother.

“Sit still, Dean.” It’s Jo, unless he’s terribly mistaken. Relief washes over him, though he’s still tense and sore everywhere. He got thrown about by angel mojo hard enough to probably break all his ribs.

“How’s Sam?” he manages to grind out, but it feels like he has a massively swollen upper lip and it comes out as more of a strained gurgle.

“He will be fine,” Jo says and Dean’s vision clears a little, he can see her patching up Sam as best as she can, propping up his head on her travel bag. “Now hurry up and call your Angel boyfriend here before angry blondie downstairs breaks out. Crowley’s mojo is keeping him down, but it’s not going to last,” she urges, shoving an ice pack over his head gracelessly. She seems angry with him.

“I don’t think-,” Dean starts, but Jo just gives him a sharp glare.

“Dean Winchester, if you dare tell me this is not a good idea, I will kick your ass back down to hell myself,” she says, folding her arms across in a way which reminds Dean of Ellen so much it throws him off for a minute.

“You’re an idiot.” Jo huffs and her shoulders drop a little. “Just man up and call Cas, we could really use an extra pair of wings just now.”

Dean doesn’t have the energy to fight her anymore and his whole body slumps as he lay back on the ground, looking up at the night sky.

“ _Cas, if you can hear me… please come down,”_ he thinks over and over again, not trusting the words to come out his lips right. There’s a flutter of invisible wings and the angel is at his side in an instant, a worried frown etched into his face.

“Dean,” he kneels down at once and places a hand over his cheek gently. Suddenly it’s easier to breathe and he can see properly again. The pain in his arm is slowly fading away too. Castiel is still crouching over him, not moving his hand away – just looking at Dean.

“Er – thanks,” Dean manages and he’s clumsily standing up, still feeling a little disoriented. Cas is standing in front of him, looking more confused than ever. Maybe even… hurt. Dean’s hardly an expert on reading people, but he _knows_ Cas, he was the one who taught him everything about emotions after all. He doesn’t really know what to say – it has been over a year since he had last seen the angel and he doesn't even know what to think or feel now. He still feels betrayed by Sam, abandoned by Cas, angry at himself and sorry for dragging Lisa into his mess of a life. There are more things whirling about his head than he knows what to do with.

“Castiel.” Crowley saves him awkward re-union conversations by popping in beside them continently, looking disgusted and smug at the same time.

“What is he doing here?” the angel steps a bit back at once, his eyes flashing between Crowley and Dean in alarm.

“Calm down, love,” the demon smiles predatorily, tucking his hands in the pockets of his black coat. “I’m here to help... my own interests, of course.”

“We didn’t make a Deal,” the elder Winchester reassures the angel.

Castiel looks to Dean searchingly, as though inspecting for a lie. He seems content and his shoulders relax minimally, but it’s enough to tell the hunter he won’t stab Crowley with an angel blade when he isn’t looking. The man did just help them out of a pretty tough spot, demon or not.

Suddenly a thought strikes Dean.

“Jo? You _didn’t_ make a deal, right?” he turns to her and Jo smirks.

“I do learn from other’s mistakes, unlike the two of you,” she says with a humourless chuckle.

“I do trade in specialized items as well,” Crowley provides, waving an old scroll of parchment in front of them with amusement.”

Jo rolls her eyes in exasperation, before looking more seriously at Castiel. “Could you heal Sam too? I’ve done all I can, but… there might be some internal bleeding.” She looks worried and at once, the angel is beside the younger Winchester and with a quick press of two fingers to Sam’s forehead, colour returns to his skin and the blood is gone.

“He should rest,” Castiel announces, back inside Dean’s sphere of personal space. “There was a lot of damage and I cannot erase the trauma he has experienced.”

“Thanks, Cas. You’re the best,” Jo grins and makes sure Sam is comfortable.

“That’s very nice of you – yes, but we have something a trifle more important on our hands here,” Crowley speaks up again, looking expectantly at Castiel, whose eyes widen in surprise. “The name Iofel the Beautiful mean anything to you?”

“Dean, did you try to fight an angel on your own?” Cas says slowly, not looking the hunter in the eyes. His hands clench into fists and Dean’s heart drops, remembering the last time Castiel was this angry with him. He swallows thickly, grasping desperately for words which didn’t come to him.

“The only thing that can kill an angel… is another angel,” Cas says, finally looking up to meet Dean’s eyes and he looks absolutely furious. “Why did you not ask for my help?” His nostrils flare a little and Dean is frozen in place with fear. Yes, he has always known Cas could fling him right back to the Pit or kill him with a flick of his finger, but he’d never thought he could actually provoke the angel to do so. He’d always been oddly protective of Dean. Now, he wasn’t so sure that still held true.

“You’re fighting a war up there, Cas. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Don’t lie to me, Dean. Do you detest my presence so much you would rather die than bow down your head and pray for my help?” the angel says it so evenly; every word feels like a precision cut with a scalpel to his very soul.

“Don’t mess about in my head, Cas,” Dean says defensively, trying to take a step back.

“I don’t have to, Dean. I know you better than you know yourself; I **remade** you when I raised you from perdition.”

Castiel is still staring unwaveringly at him, his gaze heavy with unspoken accusations. They’re suddenly interrupted when the ground beneath their feet begins to shake.

“I must go deal with the angel. This conversation is not over.” The angel is gone before Dean can protest, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t follow after Cas. He’s got everything backwards, it’s Dean who’s supposed to be the angry one here. He hears Sam groggily waking up when he runs down the shaking stairs, but he should be safe with Jo.

*

“Iofiel, please.”

Castiel is standing fearlessly in front of the enraged angel.

“Hello Castiel,” Iofiel bites out, not looking at all placated. “Why are you protecting the Winchesters? Surely you know you will gain nothing for the War by letting them live.”

“They are my friends.”

The blond angel laughs outright, looking at Cas with pity. “You are a fool, Castiel. They have polluted your mind. Humans need not a place in this universe. Particularly those two. They have hunted me down and harmed my true vessel,” he snarls in Dean’s direction.

“Brother,” Castiel pleads, maintaining a calm tone. “Return to heaven with me. There is much to be done.”

“And get killed by Raphael for siding with you? No.” Iofiel throws his long, blond hair back with a smug grin plastered on his vessel’s lips. “You destroyed all order within the Host, there is nothing keeping me there anymore. I have found… contentment here. Humans fear my powers and truly appreciate my beauty.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence between the two angels and Dean isn’t eager to be the one to break it.

“You have become vain, Iofiel,” Castiel’s finally says and his voice seems to drop lower with warning and regret. With only a slight rustle of movement, his angel blade is out. “Do not make me do this, brother.”

Iofiel’s movements are less efficient, but fast and graceful – he reveals his own blade and stands defiantly before Castiel.

“You can’t make me go back!” he shouts and launches himself forward with lightning speed. Dean backs away into a corner of the room. “It’s chaos up there and no place for one such as myself. I exist to appreciate beauty and there is none in the endless carnage between our kind.”

Dean’s breath is fast and shallow – he really hadn’t thought of how bad it must have been in Heaven. It had always seemed orderly and untouchable, but now… He really should have asked if Castiel needed help instead of hiding like a coward in order to play house with a woman who didn’t love him and a child he couldn’t be a good father to.

There’s a flash and he can’t tell what’s happening, there’s an agonising scream from Iofiel and the angel drops dead to the floor.

“There we go. Done and done,” Crowley drawls smugly. He’s standing over the dead body and casually wiping the blood off his angel blade with the victim’s own white suit, now splattered red. Castiel looks paralyzed for a second, but then he raises his blade again.

“Hey!” Crowley jumps away, instantly on guard. “I helped you kill the rebel angel, no blood on your hands today, so be a little grateful.” He tucks away his blade into the folds of his black cloak.

“Where did you get that,” Castiel almost hisses, not putting his weapon down.

“Let’s say, you’re not the only one doing shady deals now that angels are looking to flee Heaven left and right,” Crowley smiles nastily at him. “Return the favour and watch your little pets a bit better, I need them alive.” And he’s gone, leaving Dean and Cas alone again in a stunned silence.

The angel crouches over Iofiel’s body and gently moves the long blond locks out of his face.

“How many more of my brothers and sisters do I have to kill to keep fighting for you, Dean?” Cas’ voice is strained and hollow.

“You didn’t kill him, Crowley did,” Dean supplies at once, stepping a bit closer to his angel.

“Dean. There are so few of us left and it’s all because I rebelled,” Cas shakes his head lightly, standing up to look at Dean again. The unsaid ‘ _for you’_ is painful to even think, but Dean can’t deny that it’s true.

“Cas...” he chokes out, trying to steel himself and failing at once.

“I’m sorry it did not work with Lisa,” Castiel says almost casually all of a sudden. “I must return Iofiel to heaven now. Goodbye Dean.”

“Wait!” Dean grabs Cas’ shoulder when he tries to turn around to leave.

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel is looking at him so evenly again, like he’s trying particularly hard not to feel anything. Maybe Dean is just imagining things.

“I’m sorry,” the hunter finally manages to say. “I’ve been kind of a dick to you.”

Cas gives him a questioning look now, but does not interrupt him.

“Sammy was gone and I completely lost it. I thought you left me. You weren’t answering me…” he doesn’t know how to continue, the words feel like razors in his mouth.

“You had Lisa and Ben. Weren’t you happy?” Castiel’s bottom lip twitches a little.

“I drunkenly stumbled into their life and destroyed everything, Cas,” Dean admits bitterly, his gaze dropping to his fee, heavy with guilt. “I tried to make it work, for Sammy, but it fell apart before anything even started.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas says, but he doesn’t sound in the slightest sympathetic. Dean can’t blame him, he has destroyed everything between them, too.

“The point is… I miss you, man. Just, try to show up a bit more often to let us know you’re alive?” Dean looks up hopefully, trying to bring his usual bravado back into his voice. It doesn’t seem to be working, because the angel just looks at him sadly.

“I helped you defeat Lucifer and turned Heaven upside down,” he says, his tone accepting and calm. “I threw away my _home_ for you, Dean. And then you left me to cling to Lisa as nightmares invaded your mind every night instead.”

“I didn’t… I..” Dean feels like his very being is coming apart at the seams in front of Castiel. Yet the angel looks no better than him. His shoulders are relaxed, but not as when he’s calm. He looks defeated and it finally hits home that it’s all Dean’s fault.  He had pushed Cas away and directed all his anger at him, when there was nothing Cas could have done to save his brother.

“Yeah,” Dean’s whole posture slumps and he shrinks into himself, finally admitting it all aloud. “I didn’t know what I was doing and I’m sorry, Cas.” His eyes feel dangerously wet and there’s a dead body at their feet, but all that matters at the moment are the blue eyes which are searching his, carefully.

“I know you might not wanna stick with me anymore.” Every word feels like Dean’s snuffing out the faintest flickers of hope in his heart, but it’s all for Cas. “But if I can, I will do anything to make it up to you.” It’s the truth; he would walk to the ends of Earth and tear any obstacle apart if Cas asked it of him. It felt as though the light at the end of his tunnel could be extinguished with a single word from the angel now, like there was no point in living without Castiel by his side. Even Sammy…soulless and broken, could not heal the wounds in Dean’s heart on his own, no matter how much he loved his little brother.

“ _I need you, Cas_ ,” slips out before he had even thought to say it aloud. “Please.”

There’s a brush of fingers against his hands as Castiel takes them into his own, stepping closer to Dean.

“I was ready to kill my brother for you, Dean. No matter what you do, I will watch over you,” the quiet admission is like salve to Dean’s hurting soul and he lets the angel pull him closer, feeling vulnerable, exposed, but..almost safe.

“Stay?” he asks brokenly, squeezing Castiel’s hands with desperation.

“There is a Cilvil War ongoing in Heaven, Dean,” Cas pulls away a little and Dean feels his heart sink to his stomach. But there is no rejection in the angel’s blue eyes. “However, if you are willing… I can stay as much as I am able to.”

Dean doesn’t even think twice, his lips are on Cas’. It’s desperate, but chaste and lasts only a moment before he stops to hug his angel with all his strength. He doesn’t really do hugs, but this is him and Cas and he’d be damned if he let his own stubbornness drive the angel away again. He’s still holding on to Castiel when Jo and Sam barge into the underground room, looking around on full alert.

Sam’s face is trying to do five things at once as he takes in the sight of his brother practically all over Cas, but he settles for nodding at Dean with an awkward smile and avoiding any eye contact with either of them. Jo beams at everyone.

“Finally! I’ve been telling you, Sam, they’ve been waiting long enough!” she grins at the younger Winchester with stars in her eyes. Dean briefly wonders if there’s something Sammy hasn’t been totally honest with him about. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. “See, if you got your head out of your ass every once in a while, you wouldn’t be so miserable and maybe you’d even get laid,” she says to Dean. For a moment, they look at each other –Jo seems genuinely happy for him and totally over whatever weird thing had been between them before. He smiles back at her, unable to formulate an articulate response, but is pleased nonetheless.

“She’s right you know,” Cas says beside him, voice laced with a faint note of amusement. Dean realises his hands are still tangled in the folds of the trench coat and suddenly wants to bury his head in the ground like an ostrich. Yeah, the Angel of Thursday, warrior of the Lord had just indirectly agreed to having sex with him.

Then he just bursts out laughing, placing his forehead on Castiel’s shoulder instead.

It’s been over a year since they’d averted the Apocalypse and Sam is still stuck without a soul – but for the first time, Dean feels like things might be looking up. 


End file.
